Change One Thing
by eruditeprincess
Summary: Clarke Griffin is many things, including a virgin. She wants to change that. Who better to do it with than Bellamy Blake? (Rated M for smut and language)


**Again, a 100 fic. I know it may not seem like it, but I will update my New Girl fic! I promise! This may be slightly smutty as it came to me and is smuttyish. Yeah. Alright, I don't own The 100 or Clarke or Bellamy or anything (sadly). This is set after they have landed and set up camp (but nothing has happened between Clarke and Finn). Enjoy! X**

Clarke Griffin was many things. She was a princess, a leader, a nurse, lover of art and a virgin. It sort of bugged her sometimes, when she saw the amount of girls coming out of _his_ tent (she swore that she once heard a threesome going on there), obviously exhausted, all for a stupid need.

All she knew was that every girl who went in that tent came out with a dazed look, a hickey (or ten) and stories of her night with Bellamy Fucking Blake. It infuriated Clarke and it infuriated Clarke. She knew everyone at camp had already got laid (her tent she shared with Octavia once featured a naked Jasper. Clarke couldn't look him in the eyes for a week) and she wanted in on the action. So here she was.

She had done this for a few weeks now, waiting until after dark before slipping out of her tent and pacing outside Bellamy's for about ten minutes, before getting scared and leaving. Every night, she swore that it would be that night that she would go in, but it never came about and she always saw another girl enter after she had left. And tonight, she supposed, would be no different.

But the world was obviously against her, because _of course_ Bellamy would choose to open his tent flap, and _of course_ it would be that he saw her and smirked at her.

"Stalking me, princess?"

"Of course not," she snapped, and he flinched back slightly.

"Woah, less of the bite. Why have you been outside my tent recently?"

_Shit_. "Um... I needed air?"

"No. No you didn't. That's bullshit. What were you doing?"

"I wanted to, you know..."

"No I don't know, princess. Would you care to enlighten me?"

"You know? The thing, the thing everyone else has done at camp, the thingy you do."

"Sex? The innocent little princess wanted sex? Well, come in."

"What?"

"I said 'come in'. Two words, six letters. Can also use 'enter' and 'you may enter my humble abode'," Bellamy held the tent flap open for her and she entered, feeling his hand slip on to her lower back, propelling her forwards towards his bed. She sat on the pile of furs and blankets covering his bed and watched as he took his shirt off. Clarke suddenly felt embarassed at her request; maybe Bellamy wasn't such a good choice after all.

She felt the pile dip as he sat next to her, his hand reaching over and finding hers in the limited light. She felt his strong fingers link with hers and she began to lean towards him, turning herself as she wriggled on to his lap. It was at that point she began to regret not wearing underwear (but it had been a warm day and was a very warm night, plus she didn't expect to actually be in his tent, let alone on his lap). She felt herself sink into his arms and suddenly his hands were at the bottom of her shirt and she had twisted so she was straddling him and his eyes were full of lust, his pupils dilated and his breathing shallow (to be fair, she had reached this point before him).

She swatted his hands away and smirked at him as she pulled her shirt over her head (only now remembering that she refused to wear a bra), exposing her naked chest to him. She ran her hands up and down his chest and all of a sudden he was kissing her, and he had lay her down and his kisses were like fire to her, spreading a warmth through her and making her toes curl. His kisses tasted of nature and joy and beauty and everything she loved. Joy tasted better on Earth, she supposed, and his mouth was now making its merry way along her jaw, with Bellamy nipping at her skin every now and again. When he reached her ear, he tugged it with his teeth and Clarke felt an intense pleasure from that small action. She felt him move down to her neck and shoulders and she flipped them over, so she was on top. Bellamy didn't protest, in his position against her neck, and she placed feathery kisses along his jawline (the part she could reach that wasn't nestled in her neck, anyway). Bellamy's hands were exploring her body, memorising every curve, and she shivered under his touch. He dislodged himself from her momentarily, and she craved his touch more than ever.

"You cold, princess?" Bellamy's voice was soft, full of concern.

"No. Come here," she pulled him in for another kiss, and he responded with passion. She began to rid him of his trousers (because there was something poking into her and it wasn't his knee) and his hands skimmed over her area. She rid him of his boxers and tossed them somewhere in the room. He pulled away from her and twisted her so they were laying on their sides.

"Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," his hands twisted through her hair as he lined himself up and she ran her fingers through his hair, marvelling at the soft texture of it, before pain struck her.

"Shit! Princess, you okay?" Bellamy sounded scared for her, and she adored it somehow.

"It is normal. I'll be okay. Come on."

"Whatever you say, princess," he twisted his fingers more and more into her hair as he thrusted, and heard her catch her breath and moan a few times (okay, more than a few times). He began grunting her name and she was already breathing out his, beautiful gasps in between the kisses she kept pressing to his lips. He heard her moan his name quite loudly (when saying 'quite loudly', he meant that the whole camp could hear her saying his name, and if that didn't wake them up he didn't know what would) and he practically shouted hers as he tensed up, then relaxed. He met her eyes, the grey-blue enigmas that haunted his dreams, and could have sworn that the world stopped for those precious few seconds.

Her hair was all messed up and she was laying next to Bellamy Blake, displaying similar sex hair to her, and she felt like they were the only two people on Earth. He slung his arm around her waist and brought her closer, murmuring her name as he kissed her. One of his hands ran up and down her back, while the other drew patterns of flowers and promises of love on the soft skin of her waist. Her arms were working too; she was cupping his face in one of her palms as her other hand explored his body, skittering over his toned chest and over his (frankly perfect) bum and over his back, declaring her love all over him. She felt his lips press to her temple and she snuggled closer into his body, enjoying his scent. She began to fall asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat, and as she drifted off, he muttered something into her hair.

She woke up to Octavia's squeals, Jasper's grunts as he tried to move the girl, and Bellamy bringing her closer to him, gathering her in his arms and kisses being pressed into her hair. He stopped when he realised she was awake, and she smiled as he lifted his head up, allowing her to kiss the slight stubble that had been around for a few days.

"Morning, princess," she continued to press kisses to his stubble, trying to ignore the squealing Octavia that was in the corner.

"Morning Bell. Why is Octavia here and why is Jasper looking like he could pass out at any moment?"

"Octavia," he glared over at Octavia, but she didn't notice, "heard your screams last night and heard mine and she kept Jasper up all night with possibilities as to what you were doing screaming my name and what I was doing screaming yours. She has found out and has been doing this for a while."

"Shit. Right, Octavia, I know this may sound rude, but I just fucked your brother and I would appreciate it if I could get some peace with him and I would also prefer it, for his sake more than mine, if Jasper was not mentally scarred by seeing my breasts. Okay? Bye," Octavia exited and Jasper shot Clarke a thankful look.

"Why would you mentally scar him? Your breasts are gorgeous, princess."

"I've seen a lot of him that I would rather stay private to him and Octavia, and I don't think he needs the same from me."

"Seems fair," Bellamy laughed slightly, a deep laugh that resonated through his body, and Clarke found herself laughing more than she should.

"You are so beautiful, like a princess. That's how I got you the nickname."

"Stop it. You aren't so bad yourself."

"You wound me, darling."

"Oh, so it is darling now?"

"Shut up."

"I don't think so. You just look so gorgeous when you are flustered."

"Thanks?"

"No problem. Oh, Bellamy? I-"

"Don't say it if you don't mean it!"

"Mean old git. I _think_ I might be falling in love with you, but that might just be your ability in bed."

"You flatter me."

"I try, Bellamy, I try."

"I think I might be falling in love with you too. I can't say for certain though."

"Round two?"

"Round two."


End file.
